


Walls Covered in Blood

by zomgenius



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zomgenius/pseuds/zomgenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Disciple grieves for her lost love, the Signless, after he is executed and she is spared. In agony, she recollects her memories of him, and begins the first step in a long journey to revive his teachings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls Covered in Blood

Blood dripped down the cave walls like condensation off a wine glass. Handprints were smeared across the rock walls haphazardly, hastily; harrowing representations of the pain swirling through the Disciple’s vascular pump and surrounding organs. Her cries rung out through the acoustics of the cave, green-hued tears falling down – and slowly, off – her face. She thrust her hands angrily into the carcass at her knees, the navy blue blood of the hoofbeast she had slain splattering across her arms, onto her face, and across the walls. She wailed relentlessly, pounding her fists into the dead creature below her. It was the closest thing she could get to the monster that tore her life apart.

Hour after hour passed, her emotions rarely stabilizing for more than a few minutes at a time. The Disciple roamed about her surroundings in a daze, the blood from the dead creature slowly drying into the violent patterns she had swept across the walls. She could feel the temperature of the world change outside the cave’s opening; it was slowly getting warmer. The sun was rising. It made no difference to the Disciple what time of night or day it was, though; the darkest shadows could swallow her, and the brightest rays could blind her, but it would never put an end to her suffering.

Days and nights came and went, the Disciple barely living at all. She ate what she had to in order to survive, but not because of her own will to live; rather, she did it for him. She prayed before each meager meal, before her eyes shut for another day of restless sleep, and in every other possible waking moment she clung to. She prayed for a sign; anything to keep him close to her. She could close her eyes and picture him for brief moments – his calm and knowing smile, his reassuring words, his loving caress – before the images of his last moments struck the Disciple harder than each previous memory. His strained face, contorted in agony, screaming his last words for any who were brave enough to hear, and not so meek as to simply stare blankly in awe at the mutant, their ears deaf to pleas for peace and equality. He was mercilessly executed for his ideals – the very ideals that saved the Disciple from his exact fate. She yowled painfully into the night sky before her, trying to release what terror she held inside. The Disciple collapsed, too tired and weak to do more than lightly hit the ground. She never did find the sign she so fervently prayed for. She was signless, as he was.

Over the course of the next night, the Disciple laid in various states of anger and unrest. She moved about the cave, furious and seething. She came to the wall stained with regal blue blood, and ran her fingers across the jagged rocks slowly. She thought about the troll who took her lover’s life, and had spared her own, leaving her with a fate that felt worse than death. He had spared her life as repayment for the one encounter the two had shared in the past; perhaps he thought he was doing something right. Suddenly, one of the rocks cut open the Disciple’s finger. She regarded the green blood slowly oozing out of the open wound with detached annoyance. As if completely autonomous, she raised her finger to the cave wall and began writing over the blue ink.

 _There was a time when I wanted to do nothing more than what was expected of me, by Alternia and all those higher than myself. I had grown up listening to my grubhood friend preach endlessly about the need for equality and peace. I never quite listened to his words at first; they were dreams of the future. They felt like stories to me – like legends of old. But nevertheless, there we were, a greenblood and a mutant; I was one of the very few that knew of his blood color at that point. We were the perfect example of everything he believed in. He had ideas and hopes about how to achieve his goals. I had a slightly different plan._

 _I left him behind; I was far too fearful of what might happen to him were the two of us to stay together during my missions. I became a Huntress – hunting not the prey and dangerous creatures roaming the harsher regions of Alternia, but the trolls who defiled the very beliefs I had learned from my friend. There were so many trolls killed in the name of peace. My claws were freshly stained with the blood of the hunt every night before the sun rose, and by evening, it had dried, ready for a new coat. Another kill for righteousness._

 _It wasn’t until I began retelling myself the stories I had heard so many sweeps ago that I realized what I had been doing was right in theory, but wrong in practice. In order to truly spread the words of the Signless – my friend – I had to do so in his name, by his methods. It was at this time I had received my most important job yet._

 _His name was Darkleer. He was the Executioner for the high court of Alternia, and a fearsome troll, indeed. His strength was only matched by his disdain for all trolls lower than a certain caste; he despised any and all lowbloods, without exception. And surely he had heard word of Signless’ teachings. It was only a matter of time before something could go horribly wrong… unless I stopped him first._

 _I crept into his hive in the wee hours of daylight, claws sharpened and ready to strike. With stealth and precision, I made my way over to his recuperacoon, poised to attack. He awoke, his blue eyes staring into my green eyes in momentary panic. I slid my claws to meet his throat as it began to perspire; he choked back a small groan and remained still._

 _Suddenly, I remembered the stories once more. Stories of young trolls, living together as the Signless and I had, in peace and prosperity. Friendship across the hemospectrum. Kindness reigning over all, rather than the brutality of Alternian royalty. They weren’t just stories, or wishful thinking and hopes. They were premonitions – events destined to come true. Events that the Signless and those close to him were entrusted with bringing about. The future was imminent, unavoidable, and potentially wonderous, should us trolls as a race decide to embrace it._

 _And so, I withdrew my claws from the blueblood’s quivering throat. His hands immediately shot to his neck, feeling anxiously across the unwounded skin. I stared him directly in the eyes – his were rapidly becoming less fearful and more hostile, while my gaze remained unfaltering. I told him that he was saved out of mercy. Out of peace. Out of love and equality. That he was saved as a favor to himself, as well as an example of what was right. Hastily, he demanded my name; I merely responded that I was the Disciple. No more, no less. And as quickly and quietly as I entered, I absconded, leaving no trail._

 _It was then that I returned to Signless; while his teachings had always been with me, it took my own journey to find their meaning. And once I had, I realized that my simple life meant more than just hunting for the truth. I was alive to live for Signless’ teachings, and I was alive to live for him, as well._

 _Our love was greater than any had; no other trolls could compare. He was my idol, my friend, my teacher, and my lover. He was my everything.  
And one day, Executioner Darkleer stole him away from me._

 _As Signless died a slow, painful death, I was held back, clinging to his leggings – the only thing I had of his near me. I cried out for him – for someone to save him. Could no one understand that his words rang true? His last breath was taken – a harrowing, gasping rattle – and Signless ceased to be. And in that moment, Darkleer turned to me._

 _My eyes filled with fear and trepidation, but were rapidly morphing into hostility. His remained calm, determined, and unfaltering. He drew his bow and arrow and took direct aim at my chest, where I was clutching Signless’ leggings. After what felt like sweeps of terror and pure agony – I only wished to be with my love once more; I waited for the piercing arrow with bated breath – Darkleer lowered his bow._

 _He must have thought he was doing me some sort of favor – I spared his meager life, so he spared mine. It would never, and still will never, make up for the wrong he had done by blatantly murdering my love. But as he stole my love – my life – from me, I too stole his. The regality he so coveted, his only joy coming from the high court… It was snatched away as quickly as Signless’ life. He was banished, I escaped, and I was forced to live this half-life, barely living and clinging to what memories I have that are not tainted by hostility._

 _But I will continue to spread the message of my love. His suffering will not go in vain. His teachings will never again fall on deaf ears. No troll will turn another blind eye. They will learn from their mistakes, and I will teach them. For him. For the Sufferer. For the Signless._

The Disciple began to regain what little composure she could. The nightmares of her lover’s death were still all too clear, and the peaceful memories were fading quickly. But despite her loosening grasp on his memory, she still managed to hold fast the one thing that brought first the two together, and finally tore them apart: his will to bring peace to Alternia. He had visions of kindness, of equality and friendship, of trolls from every caste working together for a common goal. He fought for it until his dying breath. And so long as she lived, so too would the Signless. If he could not live on in the physical plane, the Disciple could bring him to live in the spiritual plane. All of Alternia needed to know of his message – of the prophecies, and of the future.


End file.
